Faith In Angels
by Jackyblu
Summary: House and Wilson discuss faith and the existence of God and His angels.


Faith In Angels

By Jackyblu

(This started life as a dialog ficlet but my friends say it is too hard to keep House and Wilson straight in their minds and _no I'm not implying anything there_.)

Dr. Gregory House is sitting in Wilson's office with his feet on Wilson's desk. Dr. James Wilson is sitting at his desk working on some charts. House is chewing on a straw and looking hard at Wilson making him uncomfortable, forcing him to look up.

"What are you staring at?" Wilson was annoyed.

"You," House answered playing with his cane.

Wilson sighed. "Why?"

"No reason."

"Okay… No. Stop it! It's getting on my nerves."

"Is it?" House asked innocently.

"You know it is."

"Of course I do. I just wanted to see how long it was going to take for you to tell me to quit."

Wilson sighed again and set his pen down. "You're bored again, aren't you?"

"Yup."

Wilson leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. "God help me!"

"_He_ should help me. I'm the one who's bored," House pouted.

"You think He has angels for that? The parking lot angel, the spare change angel, _the boredom angel?"_

"If _He_ did, I would become a believer in a New Jersey minute."

"Not if _His_ existence couldn't be proven scientifically. You don't have a modicum of faith."

"Do too!"

Wilson folded his arms and looked askance at House. "Now_ that_ was a retort worthy of the Algonquin Round Table."

"What it lacked in wit, it _more_ than made up for in brevity."

"Nuh uh."

"Did too. Did too!" House stuck out his tongue like the petulant child he is.

"Jerk!"

"Moron! How much time did that take?"

Wilson checked his watch. "About two minutes."

"So another five hours and thirty-seven minutes to go," House moaned.

"Serves you right for curing your patient in, what, an hour?"

"Closer to two, but who's counting."

"You were!" Wilson pointed an accusing finger at House. "I distinctly remember you gimping in here to announce the time and add a very touching, _In your face Oncology Boy!"_

House stretched his arms over his head. "Can't help it. I'm all about the sharing."

"Touching," Wilson grumbled. "Next time please check to see if I am with a patient when you feel the need to gloat. I had to explain why it took me two years to get his cancer under control."

"If you worked more and flirted less…"

"Oh yes! I'm always found wandering the hallways looking for nubile babes to ensnare."

"Aren't you?" House asked an eyebrow raised.

"Sometimes. I still work harder than you!"

"Do _not_!"

"Do _too_!"

House nodded his head once. "Glad we cleared that up."

"Me too."

"How much time now?"

"Five minutes tops."

"Hmmm," House thought. "It's too early for lunch."

"Too late for breakfast."

"Coffee break?"

"Could be," Wilson agreed.

"You buying?"

Now Wilson raised an eyebrow. "That's rhetorical isn't it?"

"Yes."

"I resent being your coffee and lunch angel," Wilson said firmly.

"No you don't," House rejoined.

"Yes I do!"

"If you did, you wouldn't keep paying."

"Well I'm not going to, one of these days."

"So until then, unfold your wings, get out your wallet and buy me some coffee."

Wilson tilted his head to one side and crinkled his eyes. "I don't like you."

"Yes you do."

"Idiot!"

"Moron!"

"Coffee?"

"Okay," Wilson conceded. "I just need to finish this chart."

"Gimme." House grabbed the chart. He took a pen from the wood holder, a gift from one of Wilson's patients. "The patient survived. There. You're done. Let's go."

"This one passed last night."

"Oops. My bad. Cross out survived and write died. Okay, let's go."

"You're so compassionate."

"How long was this patient coming to you?" House asked seriously.

"Actually, just a week. Holding out for another opinion and a miracle."

"One week?" House exclaimed. "You're permitted a single tear. Go ahead and get it out of your system," He added sarcastically. "Did you even learn his name in that time?"

"William Scott Rhodes."

"Yeah. Read that on the chart. Did he find his miracle? Did _He_ put in an appearance?"

"Not that I saw. Something strange did happen though."

"What? You saw an angel come and take him? Did he look like Nicholas Cage from that Meg Ryan movie? Oh! How about Buck Henry from Warren Beatty's 'Heaven Can Wait'?"

Wilson leaned back in his chair. "Nope. Didn't see an angel. But the patient's pain index dropped from an eight, to two."

"Morphine. Been there, done that. Didn't get the t-shirt though. Only one missing from my collection."

"_Without_ drugs. Spent the last few days speaking coherently with family and friends. Actually heard him laughing not too long before the end. He just fell asleep and that was it."

House looked suspicious. "No drugs?"

"Nothing but IV fluids."

"No mistake? No night nurse feeling sorry for the dying guy?"

"Nope."

"That's weird," House said rubbing his chin.

"I thought 'weird works for you'?" Wilson chided.

"Not this weird."

"It was like the pain center of his brain just quit transmitting."

"Autopsy?" House asked hopefully.

"The cancer killed him," Wilson said casually.

"Well duh! Did you check the brain for abnormalities to explain the cessation of pain?"

Wilson looked somberly at House. Why, because you're hoping for a miracle? Something to turn off your own pain?"

"Did you do an autopsy?"

"No. He died pain-free from cancer without pain."

"That's not possible!" House exclaimed in irritation. "You had a cancer patient die without excruciating pain and pain medication and you weren't curious enough to do a damn autopsy?"

Wilson smiled slightly. "I saved it for you. I knew you'd want to find the answer yourself."

House's anger deflated. "You saved the guy's autopsy for me?"

"Just in case you were bored."

"Really?"

"No you limping twerp! I wanted your opinion," Wilson answered derisively.

"When were you planning to ask me?" House huffed.

"Just before we went for coffee. I planned on plying you with coffee and Danish and then ask for a favor. Not necessary now."

"The coffee and Danish still is."

"Not really," Wilson said. "_Now_ you're interested. I could take your cane and beat you with it and you would still do it."

"Well especially if you're offering to get rough with me," House raised both eyebrows and offered Wilson his cane.

Wilson ignored the proffered cane. "So?"

"So?" House repeated withdrawing the cane.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Well I haven't seen the body yet! I'm an exceptional diagnostician, but I still need to see the body."

"Not that question. Are you looking for a miracle?" Wilson asked sincerely.

"There are no miracles. There are coincidences and bad breaks," House asserted.

"Things just happen? That's your explanation for what occurs in life?"

"Sh_t happens. Someone made a bumper sticker out of that because it's true."

"All of life's lessons can be found on the bumpers of cars?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"That's trite, and very sad."

"See, there you go! _'Life is trite and very sad'_. I'll make a million on that sticker," House said with a sardonic chuckle.

"That'd look good on your 'bike'. It's so you!"

"You don't paste platitudes on classic motorcycles. That's immoral."

Wilson's voice dripped with mockery. "Your bike a 'classic'? Yes adding to it's already classically damaged exterior would be a sin. _God_ forbid!"

"What has He ever done for you that made you such a member of His fan club?"

"Brought us together?"

"That was a conference," House said matter-of-factly.

"Big conference. We might never have met."

"You looked interesting, you were drunk and you broke a BIG mirror."

Wilson chose to ignore House's remark. "You could have skipped the conference. You're smarter that anyone who lectured. Why were you there?"

"I'm an over-achiever," House said twirling his cane.

"It was _providence_ that we met."

"It was a _coincidence_ that we were both there at the same time. It was fate not faith."

"I thought you said you had _some_ faith."

"In you. You're the only _angel_ in my life."

"I'm the only _person_ in your life."

"That's what makes it a miracle," House said a little despondently.

Wilson was surprised. "That was incredibly sentimental."

"Was no-ot!"

"Was to-oo!"

"Jerk!"

"Moron!"

"How much time now?" House yawned.

"About fifteen minutes."

"Where are the time angels when you need them?" House griped.

"_Time_ angels?"

"The one's that make time go faster when you are dreading something that's coming, like getting a lecture from Cuddy or clinic duty."

Wilson started to get up. "Come on. Your coffee and Danish angel is ready to provide sustenance for your soul."

House remained seated looking somber. "Do you think they exist?"

"Who? Angels?" Wilson asked taken aback.

"Yeah." House really wanted to know.

"I don't know," Wilson, heaved a sigh. "If they do, I hope they are watching over my brother."

"Yeah," House said again lost in thought.

"What do you think?"

"That I should have died. Many times. I didn't though. Why?"

Wilson shrugged. "Guardian angel?"

"I would need to make a huge leap of faith to believe that. I don't seem to be able to leap as well as I used to."

Wilson tilted his head and looked sadly at his best friend. "Is that why you have no use for Him? Because of your leg?"

"You said it yourself. His existence can't be proven scientifically," House said rubbing his thigh without realizing he was doing it.

"Neither can the sudden drop in my patient's pain."

"We'll find the answer." House stopped rubbing. "There is always an answer isn't there?"

"_God_ only knows," Wilson said smiling trying to lighten House's mood.

House smiled back and took his feet off the desk. "He'll tell me." House stood up. "God loves to brag, especially to His critics," He assured Wilson.

Wilson tilted his head up. "What if you _can't_ find the cause?" He asked House.

"_Now that_ would be a miracle."

Wilson stood and came around the desk. "You're not always right you know."

House was serious again. "Neither is He. He picked the wrong guy to cripple."

Wilson put his hands on his hips. "I thought everything was either coincidence or bad luck? Crap happening."

"When it happens to me, it's personal. I don't have _discussions_ with fecal matter."

"You have discussions with God?" Wilson asked in a shocked voice. "I thought you didn't believe in Him."

"I admit our conversations are a bit one-sided," House answered with a shrug.

"At the synagogue I attend we call that praying."

House shook his head. "You haven't been to synagogue in years."

"I still remember my way there. You on the other hand have no idea where the Presbyterians gather."

"Sure I do. I just look for the signs of hypocrisy and guilt. I'll find my mother in the front pew. Then I limp out the side door."

"Still…you praying?"

"Chewing God out. He has a few things to explain."

"Didn't you once say, 'If you talk to God you're religious. If God talks to you, you're crazy'?"

"_Psychotic_. If you're gonna quote me, get it right."

"Sorry. Let me know if He gets back to you regarding the secrets of the universe."

"I'll tell you the secret of how to be happy," House said covertly.

"What would that be?"

"Having your best friend buy you coffee and a Danish just before you get to do an autopsy on one of his patients."

"Ah. I always suspected as much. I'll be reaping the rewards of positive Karma for years to come."

House consulted his watch. "The autopsy may take hours. I may miss clinic duty today."

"As a matter of fact, I asked that you be released from that responsibility today. Finding out why this guy stopped having pain from advanced terminal cancer could be a Godsend to every chronic pain sufferer. There has to be a paper in this as well. May take you a couple of weeks."

House grinned at Wilson. "You are my angel. You have restored my faith and lifted my soul."

"You have a soul? That's a miracle," Wilson declared.

"Geek," House growled.

"Twit," Wilson countered.

"Wimp," House stated.

"Crip," Wilson declared.

"Friends?" House asked genuinely.

"Always," Wilson added firmly. He put his hand on House's shoulder. He opened the door and they left for the cafeteria.

_Always friends House thought. Thank God._


End file.
